


The Blind Date

by BlueAlmond



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 14:24:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueAlmond/pseuds/BlueAlmond
Summary: Aaron’s friends considered two years of mourning over his dead wife was enough.Alexander’s friends thought his taste was terrible and he ought to be prohibited to pick his own dates.Angelica, the one friend they have in common, considers they would in fact make a very good couple.They didn’t exactly agree with her, but if nobody knows that, their friends might finally leave them alone for a while, and wouldn’t that be lovely?





	The Blind Date

Alexander knew he could be a little overwhelming. He was argumentative and loud, but overall people tended to like him. Those who didn’t usually were the ones _he_ didn’t like and deliberately treated rudely, so really, there was no reason for his friends to be such jerks.

“I just think a relationship would do you good,” said Lafayette reasonably. “You’re better when you got someone taking care of you, and you need to have someone to tell what’s in your mind at the end of the day.”

“Yeah man,” said Hercules patting his back. “We know you have no trouble getting laid, but you’re not exactly the best judge when it comes to relationship material.”

“Dude,” Laurens glared, but quickly chuckled. “You’re right. I mean, you thought _we_ could work out.”

“But we had fun,” Alex replied, pointedly.

His ex-slash-best friend shrugged with a crooked smile. “We had fun, I’ll give you that, but the people you tend to ask out seriously aren’t usually the best match for you.”

“So, we decided we would try and pick for you. Aren’t we the best?”

“No. You’re literally the worst!”

“Whatever. You have a date tomorrow night. Don’t be late!”

“Yeah, and if that one doesn’t work out, we already thought of someone for next week!” added Hercules, grinning madly, and Alexander was painfully aware that there was no escaping this.

The first date wasn’t that terrible. The girl was beautiful and smart, but the conversation turned strained soon after he learnt she was a republican and too quickly clarified she wasn’t a feminist. He ended up fighting her every thought and they left the restaurant in opposite directions before the waitress could even offer a dessert. It only went downhill from there, in the months that followed.

Saying he was tired of these ridiculous blind dates was an understatement. He was more than tired, he was _sick_ of them. But there wasn’t much he could do about it—his friends wouldn’t _just_ _stop_. They wouldn’t. And he wasn’t that much of a dick as to just stand up people. But this guy was Angelica’s suggestion, allegedly really good-looking and he really didn’t have anything better to do on a Friday night since his friends kept making sure he kept them free, so at seven he made his way to the nice restaurant his friends picked—luckily they were considerate enough as to send him to different establishments every week or his patience really would’ve run out by now. Once inside, he made his bet and went to the only table by the window that was partially occupied. The man sitting there was, in fact, gorgeous. And punctual, too, if his empty glass of water was any indicator.

“Aaron Burr, sir?” he asked nonchalantly even though that was the part he hated the most about blind dates. In three months he’d only gotten it wrong twice, but it had been embarrassing enough he honestly hoped he never would have to go through it again.

“Alexander?” the man said in response with a placid, polite smile that only made him look better. Alexander nodded, because his mouth was suddenly very dry. Another consequence of these blind dates was that he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, aside from one very drunk, very clumsy guy in a bar a few weeks before. Luckily there was a glass full of water on his side of the table.

“So, Angelica told me you teach social studies to fifth and sixth graders?”

“That’s right,” he nodded. “And you are a journalist?”

“Investigative reporter, that’s right. I work for a little independent paper, ‘ _The Inquisitor_ ’.”

“I’ve read it,” he confessed with a polite smile. “I couldn’t tell if I’ve read anything written by you, though, but what I’ve read has been good.”

Alexander nodded. “We’re a really good team.”

“It’s important for efficient team work to get along.”

“I guess, yeah. Though when you’re a professional you can still make it work, I guess. I mean there’s this other guy, Jefferson, another reporter, that’s a real douche, but I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

It seemed like a good start, if anything a little forced, but after four minutes or so, getting a straight answer out of the guy began to look like a challenge.

“Are you always like this, or only on first dates?”

Burr frowned. “What do you mean?”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Do you generally go out of your way to give answers no one could possibly dislike, and pointedly avoid giving your opinion on every important issue?”

Burr took a moment to think of what the questions had been, looking down at his plate still half full while puckering his lips. “I guess the answer to that would be no, and no.”

“So fortunately not always, but it’s definitely not limited to first dates.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, staying calm which only made the reporter’s brusque manners more noticeable.

“How can you do that? Never mind. I don’t want to know. Actually, _why_ would you do that?”

“Why do _you_ get out of your way to turn everything into a fundamental fight? Everything has to be an issue with you, you can’t just make generic, no argumentative small talk like any other rational, considerate person.”

Alexander threw his napkin on the table and shook his head. “Our friends made a mistake.”

“It appears so,” Aaron agreed with a nod, looking unamused.

Alexander narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. “Actually…” he took a sip of water, “okay, this is going to sound crazy but hear me out for a minute.”

“Alright.”

“I don’t know about you, but this isn’t the first blind date my friends organize for me, and since it didn’t work out, it definitely won’t be the last one.”

Aaron winced in sympathy and played with his glass of water distractedly. “Okay.”

“Unless…” he leaned forward on the table confidentially and licked his lips, already feeling excited about it.

“Oh?” Aaron didn’t look nearly as excited. In fact, he started to look slightly worried and considered asking the guy if he was feeling dehydrated.

“Unless this one _does_ work out.”

Aaron blinked, trying to make sense of the cheerful expression on the man in front of him. “Come again?”

“If this one works, they’ll think their job is done, and they’ll stop.”

“Yes, and we will be trapped in a lie. If it works they’ll expect us to meet again.”

“Yes, but only for a little while.”

Aaron shook his head. “Yes, and then the whole thing of blind dates will come back even stronger than now, since the last time worked so well.”

“Unless…!”

“What, Alexander,” Burr snapped, clearly irked with Hamilton’s dramatic pauses.

“Unless it _doesn’t_ work out.”

“But you just said—”

“I know, but if our break up is so spectacularly dramatic and painful and I blame them all for bringing you into my life and completely destroying me, they’ll feel too guilty to try again.”

Aaron seemed to be considering this for a minute. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

“I know I will eventually regret this, but okay. Let’s do it.”

“Great,” Alexander grinned, and Aaron looked like he was going to be sick, already regretting whatever he had gotten into.

Aaron _knew_ it was a terrible idea, but he honestly was tired of ridiculous and frankly disastrous dates, and they didn’t seem like they were going to stop any time soon. His friends had been on it ever since he got drunk on the second anniversary of Theodosia’s death and he confessed he still dreamt about her, but he still thought that two years was a completely reasonable time to mourn a deceased wife. Their time together had been the best eight years of Aaron’s life.

“Alright, so I think we should get some ground rules and get our story straight, right? Because if we’re going to be convincing, we’ll need to put some thought into this thing. I’m supposed to convince people I see every day, and they know how I am when I’m dating people.”

Aaron snorted. “And how is that, exactly?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, “I text a lot. Stay overnight. That sort of thing.”

“You’re clingy.”

“No! I mean… I wouldn’t use that word, but yeah, I guess. I just, when I like someone I like spending time with them, you know? And talking. I really like talking, and getting to know them.”

“How could you get to know someone if only you do the talking?”

“I actually like it when the other person answers, Burr,” he glared.

“Really? Because from what I got, Angelica seemed to believe you needed someone that wouldn’t mind having you doing all the talking.”

“Well, _obviously_ , Angelica was _wrong_!” he huffed indignantly. “Let’s just plan this thing, alright? The last thing I need is for them to find out about this, or I’ll never see the end of this.”

Aaron nodded. “What would you consider a successful first date? Let’s start with that.”

“Well, for starters we would’ve agreed on important stuff, or I would’ve managed to convince you of my point of view. Well even when I don’t immediately it doesn’t count as bad because I’m positive I can convince anyone given enough time, but a successful first date definitely would include a lot of agreeing. Uh, what about yours? This has to be believable for your friends as well.”

“I’m not sure, if I have to be honest.”

“Seriously, dude?” Alexander rolled his eyes. “This is honestly a thing you cannot answer wrong, and you’re still diverting.”

“I haven’t had a ‘successful’ first date in over ten years.”

“Oh,” he bit his bottom lip, suddenly uncomfortable. “Sorry. That explains why you’re friends are organizing this sort of thing, I guess.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “I haven’t been _single_ for ten years, Hamilton.”

“Oh,” he blinked. “Well, you could’ve clarified that before you got me feeling like an asshole.”

“You are an asshole,” he sighed. “But I guess I would eventually tell you, if we had gotten along…” he licked his lips, staring at his plate looking like he was carefully measuring his words. He took a sip of his glass of water and glanced back at Alexander. “I used to be married. It was great. And she died, a little over two years ago. My friends seem to believe I’ve done enough mourning, but I disagree. Still, they’ve organized blind dates for me every week for the last six months and I’m honestly sick of it enough as to actually consider fake-date _you_ , so…” he shrug one shoulder with a self-depreciative smile.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Alexander shook his head. “I guess I really am an asshole sometimes, aren’t I?”

“Why are your friends forcing you to go out with strangers, Alexander?”

“They think I’m a bad judge of character or something like that. Claim that I’ve never picked a single person who would’ve been a good match for me in the long run, which might not be entirely false, considering the last time I had a relationship longer than four months it was in college and I fucked that up spectacularly,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “Still, they insist I shouldn’t be alone or some shit like that, but decided they would pick in my place. It hasn’t worked so far, they’re just as shitty as me.”

“Or maybe you really are a bad judge of character, and one date isn’t enough to get interested in someone that might be good for you in the long run.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged with a smirk. “So, other things we should know after a successful first date… dogs or cats?”

“Seriously?”

“Dude…”

“Cats.”

“Figured,” he sniggered. “I like all animals, I guess.”

Aaron snorted. “Who’s the one diverting now?”

“I mean it!”

“If I had said something like that you would’ve called it bullshit!”

“I get the benefit of being indecisive in this because I’ve given you my opinion in everything else!” he chuckled. “But honestly, I guess one can say it was successful when you decide to see each other again, right? Give me your number. I imagine you’re the no-sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy.”

“You’ll never know.”

“I kind of _should_ know.”

“I don’t see why your friends or mine should have that piece of information,” he shrugged. “You can tell them whatever you want, I don’t really mind because it won’t be true anyway.”

“You don’t mind what they’ll think about you?” Alexander arched one eyebrow, looking incredulous.

“They’re going to think I _like_ _you_. That’s bad enough. What’s there to care if they think I slept with you a few hours after meeting you or a few weeks? It would still mean I made that decision. Perhaps if they think I was a little drunk and didn’t know you that well it would actually be better for my reputation.”

“Wow, who’s the asshole now?”

Burr smirked callously, and the ‘date’ was over soon after that. They agreed they would meet again for brunch on Sunday, both as their fake second date and actual second scheme session, and decided all the details could be discussed then. They weren’t supposed to know how “well” everything would turn out after just one date, after all, but accorded to show enthusiasm and optimism when asked by their friends. Aaron thought it would be more problematic when he got a text from Van Ness that night, but his old friend seemed both perplexed and ecstatic that he finally agreed to a second date and wasn’t disappointed in the slightest over his lack of enthusiasm when he met the man on Saturday.

“It’s impressing already that you’re giving this guy a chance. I don’t expect you to fall madly in love with anyone after one date,” he had said with a huge beam that almost made Aaron feel guilty for lying to him. Almost.

For Alexander it was a little bit harder. He didn’t think he was _clingy_ , but when he genuinely liked someone, people could tell. He wasn’t known for being subtle. He could be, he discovered that in college, but he didn’t _like_ being subtle. It felt as if he was hiding something that shouldn’t be hidden. Needless to say, Saturday was a tiring day, and by Sunday noon he didn’t feel any more rested.

When he reached the table in the tiny restaurant where the teacher again had been waiting for him, Aaron stared at him with an arched eyebrow. “Now that isn’t a very convincing face if you want anyone to believe you’re excited about our second date.”

Hamilton sighed and sat heavily in the chair in front of Burr. “I know this is worth it. I really do, I know it’s worth the trouble but yesterday was a tough test. My friends seemed to believe I was giving you a shot only because you’re hot and I wanted the parade of strangers to stop.”

“So, they were only partially wrong, but that’s not bad. Relationships are usually stronger when they have a slower start.”

The waitress showed right then to take their order as Alexander gave a strained giggle and cleared his throat, blushing slightly. Burr stared at him warily, but waited until the girl had left to say: “Right, Alexander?”

He blinked. His friends weren’t ‘partially wrong’, they had discovered him; he just hadn’t admitted it. Besides, he couldn’t remember a single relationship of his that had taken more than a few looks to be sure which direction it would take. He cleared his throat and said: “Yeah, sure, slow starts give more strength to the foundations or whatever.”

Burr stared more, and Hamilton sighed.

“What? You can’t possibly not know you’re hot,” argued Alexander, gesticulating widely and focusing on the part that didn’t put on the table his poor impulse control or maturity. “I mean the fact that you’re so nice to look at definitely makes the whole pretend-to-like-him thing easier,” he shrugged.

“Sure,” he nodded. It had been a while since Aaron thought of himself as an attractive person. He’d known he wasn’t bad looking in college, but a lot have happened since then, and he hadn’t been in the receiving end of praise in a long time. But he knew what Hamilton meant. If the man hadn’t been as handsome, he probably would’ve rejected the whole thing, or at least, would’ve needed a lot more convincing. People were more easily persuaded of unlikely interest if the person in question was at least hot, and Alexander Hamilton was definitely good-looking, with a charming smile and wit. Because people like Angelica could think they would make a good pair, but Van Ness had known him for almost fifteen years, and he wouldn’t have been convinced at all of this thing if he were to meet an opinionated, loud, rude guy that was also ugly. He wouldn’t be as superficial as to tolerate the guy simply for his appearance, but that certainly could be a motive for patience. Still, he didn’t think the guy needed the confidence boost. He was certain enough people had told Hamilton how attractive they thought he was, so there was no need for him to make a comment about it. “Anyway, this means you couldn’t pull off a certain level of interest as to rush the relationship status, so, how long should we wait for a third date?”

Hamilton looked as if he wanted to argue, but the waitress arrived with their food and drinks and he had to force a smile to thank her. After a long sip of his coke, he said: “Perhaps we could get together for lunch tomorrow? It could be like a spontaneous decision, as in ‘I’m going out for lunch and we’ve been texting all morning. How about we get together downtown?’, sort of thing.”

“Yeah, that could work. At what time would this be?”

“My lunch break is at one, and I get an hour. You?”

“Same,” he nodded as he used the napkin. His food was good, but too dry, so he took a sip of his glass of water just as a grinning Alexander said: “Great, it’s a date.”

“Wait,” he cleared his throat, “you said we’re supposed to be texting all morning.”

Alexander shrugged “I’ll think of something.”

“We’ll actually do it?”

“My friends are the kind to steal my phone and check the messages, especially when I’m texting.”

“I think you could’ve mentioned that sooner. What if I had written something related to how this is all fake?”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “I would’ve told you it could be incriminating and then deleted both messages. I’m not an idiot, I just didn’t think of it before, but it could’ve been fixed. Relax.”

Aaron did not relax. He was already concerned about how he could deal with his own friends, the people he knew well and had a certain idea of how to manipulate, but to fool a bunch of strangers and depend on somebody else’s performance for it was too much. So he didn’t relax, and spent the rest of the day thinking about it. He didn’t even sleep well, and considering he had to give a class on Monday first thing in the morning, that was a very bad thing and he considered it completely Hamilton’s fault. Still, he smiled when he got his first text: ‘ _Having to work this early in the morning should be illegal_ ’.

Aaron wasn’t an early bird, but considering he’d been working for two hours already, the statement made him roll his eyes. He wrote: ‘ _It’s almost ten in the morning. You’re in fact quite fortunate to start your day this late. Be grateful_.’

He blocked his phone and was about to put it back in his pocket when the screen illuminated again with a new message that said: ‘ _I’d’ve thought you were a morning person, Mr. Burr! Also, are you texting in class? :O_ ’.

‘ _Unfortunately no, I am not a morning person, but coffee helps. Sixth graders at eight in the morning on a Monday? Not so much._ ’

‘ _That sounds horrible. I am suddenly way more grateful of my job._ ’

‘ _You, sir, have a wonderful job, and have made incredible life choices whereas I most definitely have not._ ’

He didn’t even try to block his phone this time. He smiled to the laughing faces and was about to comment something else when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone exaggeratingly clearing their throat by his side. He instantly blocked it and straightened in his chair to see the ten-year-old handing him a notebook.

“Uh, is this right?”

He forced a smile to his face and took the pink covered thing. “Let’s see.” The assignment was to write an essay on the responsibility of citizenship and connect them to the civil rights in less than 75 minutes and so far—almost twenty minutes into it—no one had even called his name, but Susan was one of his favorite students for a reason, and her essay was almost perfect. He made a few suggestions regarding the introductory paragraph and corrected one misspelled word, and gave her a sincere smile with words of praise. He didn’t know much about her, she was particularly quiet and always sat at the back, but he knew his was her favorite class and the only one in which her grades were above average, and that never failed to make him feel a certain level of achievement.

He leaned back in his chair and took a moment to observe the class. The largest part of the group was actually working, though he could count a couple talking and others texting and playing with their phones, but honestly that was to be expected. The first 45 minute block came and went without another student approaching him, so he discreetly went back to looking at his phone, only to find two new messages:

‘ _You really were texting in class, weren’t you?!_ ’ and a string of crying in laughter faces.

‘ _There isn’t much to do when they have to write essays_ ’ he defended himself, and the conversation only escalated from then. He had the mind to tell him the class was approaching the end and he would need to answer all the doubts nobody cared enough to ask before, to which Hamilton laughed at but seemed to believe for he patiently waited for Burr to text him back once he was free, which was roughly around lunch time. ‘ _I’m finally free. Want to get lunch?_ ’

‘ _Have you ever heard of_ Blue Tapes _? It’s a really cool place downtown._ ’

‘ _I have not, but I’ll trust your judgment. See you there, then. I should be there in twenty minutes or so._ ’

Twenty three minutes later, he found the reporter already sitting in one of the tables by the window, reading something on his phone that made him frown comically. If anybody asked, after the farce was unavoidably discovered, the smile on Aaron’s face that appeared at the view was nothing more than an act.

“What did the poor phone do to earn such a glare from you?” he asked as he sat in front of him.

Alexander straightened on his chair, startled and slightly blushed. “Oh, nothing, I mean, it was an article from a Christian magazine that I really should block because they only ever publish barbarities but I haven’t,” he shrugged and took a sip of his glass of water. “It was a testimony from a woman that had an abortion when she was younger and, surprise, is against it. Says the abortion was practiced against her will and that she’s felt empty ever since, and a lot of other moving comments that are somehow supposed to convince the readers that abortion is the worst possible medical procedure on earth and how it should be banned everywhere.”

Aaron snorted and shook his head. “I don’t understand how people still discuss this. Legalizing something isn’t forcing people on practicing it, as opposed to banning something. Anti-abortion activists act as if they’re the ones being attacked when they’re the ones forcing their views on people.”

“I’m impressed. You gave me your honest opinion.”

He shrugged. “I’m only careful around people who might judge me. You already did, and it was pretty obvious you have a similar point of view in this.”

Alexander shook his head with an amused smile, but whatever he was about to say got interrupted by a waitress that took their order with a too bright smile and brought them their drinks in record time. Early on a Monday, the place wasn’t too crowded. Aaron didn’t have more classes for the day and Alexander’s schedule was apparently his to decide, so really time wasn’t an issue, but the scent coming from the food of the nearest table was alluring enough they actually were grateful the food didn’t take long either.

“Alright,” Alexander rested his fork on a border of his plate and licked his lips before using a napkin, “so our fourth date should be soon, probably something like this as well.”

Aaron nodded and swallowed his mouthful of risotto. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

Alexander thought back to his friends. Lafayette kept sending him strange looks and Hercules would only laugh each time he saw him texting. Nobody would be surprised if he were to meet someone he liked the very next day, but he needed them to think he liked Burr for that, and he already knew that probably wouldn’t work. If only, it would make them think Burr was super clingy and invested in this thing, which, okay, it might be worth it.

“That’s a long pause. Let’s leave it for Wednesday.”

Alexander groaned. “I hate Wednesdays.”

Aaron snorted. “I don’t think anyone particularly likes Wednesdays, but why do you _hate_ them?”

“Well they’re horrible,” he shrugged, taking the glass to his lips at the same time which made a drop fall down. Aaron followed the movement with his eyes until it reached the bottom of the glass.

“Would you mind to elaborate?”

Alexander put the glass back in the table, without caring about the coke at the bottom. It would get sticky. Aaron forced his eyes back to the other’s face as this one asked: “Don’t _you_ hate them?”

“Of course I do, but I have a reason for it.”

“What is that reason?”

“It’s a tiring day,” he swallowed another bite and used a napkin. “I work at two schools, and Wednesday is the only day I have to go to both of them.”

“I didn’t know you worked at two schools.”

Burr shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“Well I assumed… I mean, Angelica only works at ‘La Croix’, so I never really thought of…” he shrugged. “I mean, I thought teachers only worked at more than one school for the money, and Angelica has confessed to me more than once that her salary is ridiculous compared to other schools. Sometimes she even feels bad, like she sold her soul.”

Aaron nodded. “Well, the entrance fee for the students is ridiculous enough to allow the administration to pay us that well,” he gave him a self-depreciative smile. “But I have less hours that Angelica, so her salary is probably higher than mine.”

“Where else do you work?”

Aaron kept chewing his food for a moment. They were talking so much, it would get cold. He swallowed, used a napkin, and said: “Lambfield, in Washington Heights.”

“For real? I went there! Is Mr. Addams still the vice principal? God, I hated that man…”

“I’m going to go and assume you got called into the principal’s office a lot,” he smirked.

“I’ll let you know I had very good grades.”

“And you probably got into a lot of fights as well.” Hamilton gave him a crooked smile that was enough of an answer. Aaron shook his head. “Yes, he still is the vice principal, and I don’t know how you could have hated him. The man eats donuts all day.”

“Exactly! He doesn’t do _anything_! I’m sure there are others considerably more capable for that position, even though there really isn’t anything for the vice principal to do. Then again if there was someone more capable, perhaps they could actually make the principal’s job lighter.”

“Why do I feel like you gave this a lot of thought when you were in elementary school?”

“Probably because I did,” he admitted with a grin. “So where did you start working first? Lambfield or La Croix?”

“La Croix.”

Alexander frowned. “And why on earth did you get a job in Lambfield?”

“I threw a dart to a map.”

“Yeah, right.” Hamilton snorted, but when the man didn’t say anything else he stared in horror. “Oh my god you actually did that,” he chuckled. “I don’t even know what to think. I’m like, slightly offended, and in awe. I mean, who picks their job like that? Now I see why you said you made terrible life choices. Wait. Is your first class on Mondays in Lambfield?”

Aaron nodded, and Alexander burst out laughing maniacally. “You, sir, are ridiculous, I swear! Please tell me your students don’t know that story.”

“Of course they don’t, or they wouldn’t respect me at all.”

“Yes, or they would find you in fact cool, and pay more attention.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But why did you decide to work somewhere else?”

“Working at La Croix is basically an obligation, but I actually like teaching. I don’t like restricting myself to those that can pay. It doesn’t feel right.”

Alexander pursed his lips and leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table and his chin on his palm. “What do you mean an ‘obligation’?”

Aaron sighed. “My… my uncle is the principal.”

“Oh, so it’s nepotism.”

“Yes.”

“It embarrasses you.”

“Yes.”

“Angelica never mentioned that. You keep it a secret?”

“Yes.”

Even though Alexander was expecting that answer, his eyebrows tried to reach his hairline. He nodded. “I won’t say it either, then.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. When do you think it’ll be a reasonable time to meet in one of our places?”

“You do remember that I have absolutely cero experience in dating as an adult? The last time I showed a potential date my place it was for a study session, and before that I was in high school.”

Alexander snorted and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Damn, I suddenly feel like a lot of the responsibility of keeping this relationship believable is on me.”

“It is, but it’s fair since this whole thing was your idea after all.”

“Whatever,” Alexander finally resumed eating. “Let’s think of something to do over the weekend, too.”

“You mean, a date that requires thinking and walking around the city, where someone might see us? You know the food helps a lot to disguise our moods, right?”

“Shut up. This meat is really well cooked, though.”

Aaron nodded and pointed at his plate with his fork. “This risotto is marvelous.”

“Can I try it?”

“Seriously?”

“Come on, we’re supposed to be on a date. Couples do it all the time!”

Aaron could’ve died out of embarrassment right there, but he collected some food on his fork and extended his arm all the way to the other side of the table, where Alexander awaited with his mouth wide open. He giggled and was about to drop it all over the man’s glass of coke, so Alexander had to grab his arm and redirect it to his mouth, muttering ‘jerk’ under his breath, but quickly moaned because the food really was delicious. “I feel like I’ve been conned now, your food is way better than mine.”

“It’s not my fault that you don’t have any imagination. It was you who recommended this place, and how old are you? What adult orders steak and mashed potatoes?”

“Shut up,” Alexander chuckled, and Aaron guessed they could manage to pretend being all lovey-dovey on the street, as far as no one could hear what they were actually saying.

On Wednesday, Angelica got the news of their blossoming relationship with the smugness of a cat that had gotten the canary, as if it was all because of her.

“When Caroline told me what she and William were doing for you, I couldn’t help thinking about Alexander and how his friends were doing the same for him. And the more and more I thought about it, the more it made sense what a good couple you would make. And of course, I was right,” she winked.

Aaron had the urge to roll his eyes, but resisted. He wanted to tell the Schuyler she had been _wrong_ , _wrong_ , _wrong_ , but couldn’t do it, for the sake of his tranquility. This would be the first Friday in six months where he could actually go home after work, and stay home, without being bothered with awkward small talk with total strangers, and it was glorious.

õ֍õ

As it turned out, the first time one of them went to the other’s place was completely unplanned. They had met for lunch again—because grown-up men don’t get together in parks or zoos but they agreed that an art gallery and the movies wouldn’t be too weird in the future—in a nice little crowded place and were sitting outside when it started raining. They got completely soaked in the minute it took them to get inside the restaurant, and so they decided to leave for Aaron’s apartment that was a few blocks from there instead of freezing to death in the too loud establishment.

“Don’t seat on the couch yet, you’re dripping all over the carpet!”

“Well, I’m sorry but my pants are soaked. What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll lend you some pants, hang on…” Aaron’s apartment wasn’t really big when compared to the house that he’d grown up in, but considering it was in Manhattan and it contained two relatively big bedrooms and two bathrooms, it was pretty good. The kitchen wasn’t small either, and the living and dining room were an open space he separated with an elegant iron screen, that only gave each separate ambience an effect of amplitude.

In the minute it took for Aaron to get to his closet and find something for Alexander to wear, the man had went to inspect the rest of his living room without minding the water, so when Aaron found him watching closely all his pictures he threw the sweatpants at his head.

“There. I’ll take the food to the table. Hurry so we can eat before it gets cold.”

“Aren’t you going to change?”

Aaron stared down at himself as if only then he was noticing he was drenched as well. “Yes, I will.”

Alexander chuckled. “Show me the bathroom, please.”

He changed fast, but when he came out, Aaron was already placing their food on the table and Alexander wondered how he could be faster than him. He figured it had a lot to do with the absence of hair to tie or attempt to dry.

Aaron gave him a funny look. “You look like a girl scout.”

“Shut up, I look great.” He had considered a bun, but that would mean his hair would still be wet for hours, and his hair was already wavy from being out in the rain; with two braids it wouldn’t be such a mess in the morning.

“I believe this is the first time I’ve seen a grown man wear that hairstyle out of his own will.”

“The people you know are boring and know nothing.” He hummed around a mouthful of food. “This place is good. We need to go there again.”

Aaron nodded. “It’s good, though they never cook the broccoli enough. Then again restaurants never do it, since when it’s too cooked it gets softer and it smashes easily. A little raw, it stays pretty, but it’s stiffer and simply not as good.”

Alexander stared at him for a moment, blinked, and gulped. “I’ll take your word for it, I guess.”

“I take it you don’t cook much?”

Alexander shook his head. “No, not at all. I can’t even make pasta. But you do, huh?”

“Yeah, I like it. I can make something for our next date if you want,” he winked.

“Yes, you do that,” he pointed at him with his fork for effect. “I’ll remind you of it in the future.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. A couple of minutes later he gathered their plates and took them to the kitchen, closely followed by the reporter.

“How can I help?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m an impromptu guest, so I do. If you’d planned to invite me then, sure, I wouldn’t move from the couch, but since it’s the rain’s fault…” he shrugged, “you’re stuck with my help, unless you’re some sort of cleaning maniac.”

“I’m not,” Aaron lied.

“Okay, then I’ll help.”

Four minutes later, Alexander was laughing his ass off while Aaron rewashed the glasses.

“You lied! You’re totally insane!”

“I just like knowing the things I take to my mouth are clean.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I always make sure to wash up very nicely; I shower every day.”

“Get out of my kitchen, Hamilton.”

Alexander did, laughing loudly, and Aaron joined him soon after.

He was once again inspecting the numerous pictures Aaron kept in the living room. He nodded towards one in particular and asked: “That was your wife?”

“Yes, Theodosia,” Aaron nodded.

“She was beautiful.”

“Yes, and very smart too; the kind of person that could charm anyone.”

If Aaron hadn’t sounded so longing, Alexander would’ve jokingly said ‘like me’. Instead he said: “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

“I think I will always miss her… but it doesn’t hurt as much, you know?”

“You learnt to live with the hole she left.”

“Yes.”

Alexander nodded and looked away, looking for a new topic of conversation. He could comment on the furniture or the windows, how if it weren’t for the rain he probably had a precious view of the city, but if he was going to abruptly change the subject then he wanted to change it for something exciting. Then his eyes went to a pile of papers on the center table, and the title on top made him smile. He almost snapped his fingers in celebration, but controlling his enthusiasm he asked:  “Is that a paper on the economic system?”

“Yes.”

“This was written by a sixth grader? It’s pretty good.”

Aaron took a glance at the paper in Alexander’s hands. “Yes, Nathalie is one of my brightest students. Did you read the conclusion? It’s beautiful.”

“Give me a minute,” said Hamilton as he kept reading. “This is very good. Do you give the same assignments to all your students, or do you have like, different plans for each school?”

“They’re fairly similar, but there are a couple of differences regarding the curriculum and importance for certain themes that each school prioritizes.” He didn’t expect the reporter would want him to elaborate, but he did, and for the first time in a very long time, he found himself discussing his plans and projects and the content with another adult that found it as exciting as he did. Before he knew it, they’d been talking for hours having agreed in most things, and he didn’t want the conversation to be over… until he mentioned Benjamin Harrison and Hamilton made a suggestion disguised as ‘timesaving’.

“I can’t tell them that, Alexander. This is a history lesson, it must be as unbiased as possible. I can’t go around telling ten and eleven-year-olds _how_ they should think.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a matter of opinion! His was an administration hated by everyone, it’s practically a fact! And nothing happened. You could skip it and no one would care.”

“Yes, he was hated by ‘practically everyone’, with ‘practically’ being the key word, there.” He shook his head and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You could never be a teacher.”

 “Burr, his own party called the man a ‘refrigerator’, does he sound like a popular guy to you?”

“Okay, but how about… Zachary Taylor?”

Alexander snorted. “Wasn’t he president for less than a year?”

“A year and four months, actually, and he’s remembered for being the last president owning slaves in the White House, so,” he shrugged.

“Look, I’m not saying Harrison was the worst. He actually had some good ideas, but he didn’t accomplish them. And I’m sure that if you were to google a ranking with the most hated American presidents, he would be there.”

“He did good for the forests and cared about the African-American community, so there’s that.”

“And he did so bad the Democrats won the next election, so I guess we can thank him for that.”

“He didn’t exactly make Cleveland a favor.”

“Which proves my point, again.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, but couldn’t repress the smile that had been tugging at his lips through the entire conversation. All in all, it had been nice. Talking to Alexander, even arguing with Alexander was entertaining, and he invited him again the next weekend, the weekend after, and made plans for the weekend after that. Without noticing, he had exchanged the blind date every Friday for dinner with Hamilton every Friday, but he didn’t mind. After six months, he had gotten used to having something to do on Friday nights, and suddenly having free time hadn’t been as exciting as he’d imagined it would be. Also, his friends were leaving him alone, thinking he was deep in the honey moon phase and were giving him the space he very much had needed. He loved his friends; he couldn’t imagine his life without William, but the guy had been checking on him twice a day ever since his wife died and he really could live without that. The one break he’d gotten in nearly three years had been when Van Ness had taken a plane for Thailand. He still called him first thing once he got there, and he was on his honeymoon. It took Aaron three whole months to get on Anne’s good side again after that.

All in all, it was nice having another person in his apartment often, especially one that had never been there when Theodosia was alive. Caroline would tell him that he lived in a museum, Angelica would complain she was getting afraid she would move or, god forbid, break anything and Aaron would never speak to her again, and Van Ness… well, he never said anything, but he didn’t have to. The way he looked at him was enough.

And maybe it had taken him over a year to do it, but he had given his sister most of Theodosia’s shampoos and beauty products. He had donated most of her jewels and clothes, keeping only a few pajamas, rings and scarfs. He still had her perfume and toothbrush in the bathroom attached to what had been their bedroom, but who could blame him? He was afraid one day he would forget the fragrance she brought with her whenever she walked into a room, and he couldn’t have that. Also, the view of a single toothbrush near the sink was enough to bring tears to his eyes even now, and that extra one wasn’t hurting anyone. He didn’t really look at it, it was just something that was there, wasting very little space, and nobody needed to know. He was doing a lot better. His nights weren’t as bad. He was buying more groceries now that he had a reason to stay in and have dinner with somebody else, and he wondered how come he didn’t invite William and Anne more often just for that. He used to like cooking. Theodosia was helpless in the kitchen but she always complimented him even when he was no professional and she most certainly was no food critic, but it had made him unreasonably happy nevertheless. She used to do that, her mere existence all the reason he needed to be happy, and when she was no longer there, he found he was lacking any other reasons. He had good friends who cared about him, family that supported him, he liked his job, his apartment was nice and paid, but still he wasn’t happy. The first few months were hell, but eventually he got his smile back one day, without a particular reason. He just got better. And maybe he couldn’t have done it without William constantly checking on him or his sister’s spontaneous visits, but what finally got him smiling again was to realize that he was still living and affecting kids’ lives, and he liked doing that.

Thinking back to a year before, there actually had been a particular event that triggered that realization. It was finding out that one of his students had been admitted to Stanford like he’d dreamed of. He’d gotten a letter one day, telling him how he’d been fundamental for the kid’s confidence and how he’d been his favorite teacher and he just, he realized he was still living. That Theodosia was gone, but he still had a responsibility to the kids he was teaching.

He still hated Wednesdays, and Tuesday nights were the preamble of evil, but overall, Aaron thought he was in a good place with his life, with or without a partner. He felt comfortable enough to think that while slicing vegetables for the stew he was cooking for himself instead of ordering pizza and going to bed at nine like he’d done until not so long ago.

He’d just finished pouring bowling water into a pot when he heard his doorbell. He was surprised, because who would wait to ring the doorbell instead of texting or calling sooner, when there was a raging storm outside?

He hurried to the interphone and barely managed to say hello before a voice he’d gotten quite familiar with cried: ‘ _Let me in, let me in, let me in please!_ ’ His finger had pressed the button before his brain told him to.

A minute later he opened his door to find a drenched Hamilton waiting outside, hugging his messenger bag like it contained the cure for cancer. He figured his laptop must have been inside.

“Alexander? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, but the power’s out in my apartment and I tried going back to the office but there was no one to open the door and my friends have a cousin over or some shit like that and—”

“Alexander, it’s okay. I’m surprised, not mad. Come on in,” he stepped aside to let the man in and rubbed his own arm. He had gotten cold just from watching him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s okay. Let me get you some dry clothes.”

“I think I might love you.”

Aaron shook his head. “Don’t tell your friends that. We want this thing to be believable.”

Alexander snorted. “Oh, that smells nice. What are you cooking?”

“Not much, but I felt like the day merited a soup.”

“Soup smells this good?”

“It’s actually a stew, but yeah, soup with potatoes and meat.”

“That sounds like my kind of soup.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and handed him the sweatpants, shirt and hoody Alexander had used the first time he’d been there. “It’s not ready yet. Go change, and leave your clothes…” he bit his bottom lip, looking him up and down again, “in the bathtub edge, where they won’t make a mess.”

Alexander didn’t complain because he really wanted to get out of his wet clothes. He grabbed the outfit and hurried to the bathroom, without thinking of how comfortable he felt around the apartment or how he could actually recognize the clothes.

Honestly his first option had been Hercules and Lafayette, but they had a cousin over already and the place would be too crowded. Without mentioning that he already had heard a lot about Adrienne and he really didn’t want their first impression to be of him looking like a homeless drenched rat that was sleep deprived, and nobody needed to know how far behind he was on his article. He thought he would have it done by now, but it wasn’t anywhere near finished. Since his plan had been to work all night long anyway, he then considered going to the office, but the building was locked, and no one in their right mind was anywhere near downtown on a Tuesday at ten p.m. when there was a storm outside that had already taken out the power in several blocks all around the five boroughs. That he thought of Aaron’s place next had surprised him a little, but considering that if they had actually been dating that would’ve been his first choice, he decided to roll with it. The fact that the power had run out just as his laptop told him it was running out of battery didn’t help his nerves, so in the rush of moving around trying to protect his bag from the rain while writing his article in his head and trying to memorize whatever he was coming up with he’d been too busy to even call to make sure he wouldn’t be a bother. He assumed that since he hadn’t been kicked out yet, but offered clothes and food instead, he was welcomed.

When he came out of the bathroom, Aaron was reading something on his phone in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said, a little embarrassed, “sorry about barging in here like that.”

“It’s fine. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take you in when your power’s out?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Uh, I need to finish an article, so I’ll just…”

“Go. You know where the plugs are in the living room. Or do you prefer the study?”

“No, the living room is fine, thank you.”

“I’m getting bumpy with your humbleness, Alexander. Really, it’s okay.”

Alexander chuckled but didn’t say anything else, glad the man hadn’t made fun of his hairstyle this time. He made himself comfortable in the couch and started working. He’d been right in the middle of a crucial paragraph when his computer had demanded him the charger, but he had memorized about eighty words that should finish the idea and open the next one. He also had thought of two or three phrases for the conclusion and had two large ideas that he still needed to develop and fit somewhere. Twenty minutes or so later, he was done with that but still had a long way to go, though with his mind a little clearer now that there weren’t any memorized phrases, he felt like he finally could breathe. The good thing about the internet was that for his articles to be printed in the morning paper he only needed to finish them before seven and email them from wherever he was, instead of having to lose some very precious hours in the way to the office.

“Alexander, could you take a break?”

“Oh, is the food ready?”

“It is.”

“Then yes! I’m hungry…”

“You’re always hungry.”

“That’s not fair; we always meet when it’s time to eat!”

Aaron snorted and shook his head with an amused smile, which Alexander didn’t find at all funny. He glared as he took a spoon with broth to his mouth, but once he swallowed, his expression turned into one of amazement as he gasped. “This is delicious!”

Aaron chuckled. “Thanks.” He shook his head as he watched the ridiculous man in front of him devour the contents of his plate at inhuman speed.

“You should’ve made this sooner. I think it’s actually better than those noodles you made last time.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. He’d used a mushroom demi-glace for the sauce and had wasted a lot more time then than the twenty minutes it took him to get all the vegetables ready to boil unsupervised for a while for the stew they were now eating. “I’ll remember it.”

After that, they mostly ate in silence until Aaron asked Alexander about his article and the man broke into a soliloquy on the subject for around fifteen minutes, in which they finished their plates and cleaned the kitchen together. Then Alexander was more inspired than ever and went back to the couch to keep working on his article while Aaron used the center table to grade some essays.

Around forty minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and Aaron rubbed his forehead with a sigh.

Alexander turned to him surprised. “You were waiting anyone? Sorry, I—”

“No, no I wasn’t. I just think I know who it is,” there wasn’t many people who could just knock on the door without ringing the bell outside the building first, “and this will be awkward. I’m sorry in advance,” he chuckled.

Alexander watched him go to the door with curiosity, and put his laptop to the side. Aaron hadn’t told him to leave or hide, so he figured whoever was the middle-aged man smiling by the door, he was supposed to say hello, and he did. He waved from the couch and stood up as the man entered after giving Aaron a short, one-armed hug.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a guest,” said the man once his eyes settled on Alexander, his mouth twisting downwards. “I guess I should’ve called. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, don’t worry,” Aaron cleared his throat. “This is Alexander, he’s a friend of Angelica Schuyler? Alexander, this is my uncle, Tim.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello,” he offered him a tight smile and licked his lips. “Well, I was hoping you could help me plan your aunt’s birthday party, but if you’re busy, I get it.”

“No, it’s okay. Alexander has to finish an article, right?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m only here because there’s no power in my apartment, really.” His statement went reinforced by the distant sound of a thunder, and the man winced in sympathy.

“Very well, then,” he clapped his hands and grinned. “You can give us your opinion if you want. Rhoda is an exceptional woman, and I never know what to get her but Aaron knows her well.”

Aaron shrugged with a sheepish smile and followed his uncle back into the living room. Once the man was sitting comfortable not far from Alexander, he asked: “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee?”

“Some coffee would be great, thank you.”

“Very well…”

From the kitchen, he could distantly hear Alexander make awkward small talk with his uncle, and he chuckled as he shook his head and waited for the coffee to be ready. He loved his uncle, but he knew he wasn’t the most entertaining guy to be around, and he felt sorry for Alexander, so he got him a coffee as well. By then he already knew how the guy took it—one cream, five sugars—and that would give him time for a second trip to get his own cup of tea. On that second trip, he also got a notepad he kept in the kitchen for recipes and went back, not sitting on the floor this time but on the couch, in between his uncle and Alexander.

“Okay, we have almost two weeks,” he grabbed the pen he’d been using for grading essays. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I know you know what cake she likes,” his uncle nodded, “and I got the guest list, too. Uh, it’s supposed to be sunny, so I thought it could be on the garden, like last year. The flower’s place, you fixed that last year too, it looked nice.”

“Okay… anything else? Did you get her a present yet? Do you have any ideas for the music, the food? At what time do you want the guests to arrive?”

“Four, four in the afternoon should be fine. And, yes, I’d like to get her music in live, you know, some string quartet she might like…”

“Okay,” Aaron nodded, writing everything down. “You got her a present yet?”

His uncle bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know what I should get her.”

Aaron sighed, but started suggesting things, and Alexander would propose stuff from time to time as well. He had a couple of good ideas, and other ridiculous ones, but his uncle had others that were definitely worse, so Aaron didn’t know which one was more helpless. After almost an hour of throwing ideas—how difficult could it be to find a present for a fifty year old woman?—and several cups of coffee later, they finally settled on a trip to the Caribbean for a week, which had been in fact, Alexander’s idea.

“Well,” his uncle stood up, “this has been fun. Thank you, Alex, for your valuable input. I’m sure Rhoda is going to love it. Now, I think it’s been enough for one day. Can we have lunch together tomorrow, Aaron?”

Aaron frowned for a second, but then shrugged, tilting his head to the left. “Sure.” He stood up as well, and walked the man to the door. “Call me when you’re free.”

“Will do,” he nodded. “Good night!”

“Good night!” Alexander waved from behind Aaron. “Well, that was fun. Your uncle surely loves his wife, but he’s not very good with presents, is he?”

“It took for me to actually sit with him when I was thirteen and ask him to get me books instead of the sport’s stuff he always got me, when I would constantly complain about PE since I could remember. I wouldn’t even play outside, but he still got me balls and baseball gloves and that sort of thing. And then when he started giving me books, the first one was in fact about a soccer club I hadn’t even heard the name of before.”

Alexander threw his head back, laughing cheerfully. “Yeah, I’ve known people like that. A friend of mine, I think I’ve told you about him, Lafayette, has been with his boyfriend for seven years now, and they’ve known each other for even longer, and he gets him the same flowers every year because that’s the only thing he can think of. My other friend doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s never actually liked those flowers and he’s even allergic to them. Can you believe my friend never noticed?”

Aaron chuckled as he sat back on the floor. He’d picked the carpet underneath the center table with the purpose of sitting on it in mind, and it was comfortable. Still, he was surprised when Alexander sat in front of him, on the floor as well.

“Some men are clueless,” said Alexander, grabbing his laptop and opening it on the center table.

“Yeah,” Aaron bit his bottom lip, watched the reporter refocusing on his article, and went back to grading essays.

õ֍õ

His uncle always picked the same place; a little thing in front of the park with scarcely six tables that was always packed full. He was friends with the owner and always asked the same thing—lasagna Bolognese—but Aaron never knew what to order, but taking too long staring at the tiny menu made him nervous under his uncle’s perky gaze.

He noticed the smashed potatoes and thought of Alexander. He picked them as some sort of inside joke, and tried not to smile so much. His uncle still stared at him with an arched eyebrow.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you have that since you were in middle school.”

Aaron shrugged. “Yeah, and I don’t know why. They’re delicious.”

“They are,” his uncle nodded and smiled to the same waitress they got every time who quickly brought their orders. “Alexander seemed like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“How long have you been together?”

Aaron choked, grateful he’d gotten the smashed potatoes, and took a long sip of his glass of water. “What? We’re not…” he used the napkin and noticed the way his uncle was staring at him, with an arched eyebrow. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, a couple of weeks?” It had been around a month and a half since that first blind date, but his uncle didn’t need to know all the details.

Timothy nodded. “You seemed very comfortable around each other; that’s good. He’s a reporter?”

“Yes.”

“You should invite him over for your aunt’s birthday.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? The present was his idea, and it’s perfect. Your aunt is going to love him.”

Aaron knew that was true. All in all, Alexander could be quite charming when he wanted to, and he knew that if he introduced the guy as his boyfriend his aunt would already be predisposed to like him. “If he says yes,” he licked his lips and used a napkin, “I can go help you with the flower and food service in the morning and then I’ll go pick him up.”

“Yes, of course, he will be a guest. I wouldn’t ask him to do any heavy lifting,” his uncle chuckled. “You already know who we’ll hire?”

“You said the same from last year, right?” He’d stayed late at night checking his email even though it was Tuesday to find all the places he’d used for the last party he’d help plan. Normally it was his aunt the one who did all that, but when the party was for her, the next in line to organize everything was Aaron, because his uncle was useless and his sister… wasn’t at all interested, to be honest. He’d made a list on his phone, and showed it to his uncle. “I can call them all tomorrow. You said Saturday at four p.m., right?”

“That’s it,” his uncle nodded, smiling openly.

After lunch, he had to go back to work. At least La Croix wasn’t too far—he’d been to Lambfield in the morning and had stopped at his apartment on the way to the restaurant for his laptop, so his uncle drove them both there. The rest of the day was tiring but uneventful… at least until he was about to leave, when Angelica cornered him before he could.

“I heard Alexander met an uncle of yours,” she grinned. “Weren’t you raised by one of your uncles?”

Aaron sighed. “Yes, I was. And yes, it was the one Alexander just met.”

“So basically, he met his father-in-law.”

“It wasn’t like that. It was an accident—”

“But it happened! How did it go? Did they get along? And what was Alexander doing in your apartment on a Tuesday night?”

“His power went out because of the storm.”

“Oh, okay,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m glad you two are together,” she squeezed his bicep fondly. “And I guess that now that he already met your uncle you guys can start hanging out with more friends. Alexander’s friends are making me crazy asking about you, you should meet them.”

Aaron studied her for a moment and clicked his tongue. “And I imagine Van Ness has been driving you crazy as well, hasn’t he?”

She grinned and shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t say anything.”

Honestly, Aaron wasn’t surprised. He’d found weird how patient William had been so far. Back in college he’d been the one to stalk people whenever Aaron mentioned they were cute, and double dates were mandatory a week after the first kiss. “You didn’t have to. I’ll see you on Friday, Angelica.”

She waved, smiling cheerfully, and Aaron concluded every friend she knew would hear how Alexander was spending every other night in Aaron’s apartment, and that was both, perfect and terrible. As long as they didn’t give them any reason to doubt its truthfulness, it would only make their relationship more believable, but it was also something easy to prove wrong. On his way home, he texted Alexander: ‘ _I believe most of our friends will now know you’ve spent several nights at my apartment already_ ’. He considered making a comment on how it actually had been just once, but if Alexander was still in the office, one of his friends could see it.

‘ _Yeah, I already heard. Apparently our relationship is getting pretty serious, in their opinion._ ’ Alexander typed back shortly.

Aaron shook his head and chuckled, completely unconcerned about the old man glaring at him and the little girl giggling from the other side of the wagon. ‘ _If they’re going to start interrogating us about all this perhaps you’re going to need to get more familiar with my apartment._ ’

Alexander had in fact visited many times now, but he’d only spend the night once. He’d never showered or been inside Aaron’s bedroom, though he probably knew where to find most things in the kitchen.

Immediately came one text: ‘ _I think you’re right._ ’, and before Aaron had finished reading it, came another: ‘ _How about tonight? Let’s end up a tedious day with some fun_.’

‘ _Fine, but we’re ordering pizza. I can’t cook right now._ ’

‘ _I’ll be there in forty minutes!_ ’

Aaron pocketed his phone, and made sure he had everything with him. It was already dark outside, and he was exhausted, but the idea of having pizza with Alexander somehow wasn’t making him more tired. On Thursdays he only had one class in Lambfield at two p.m., so he could sleep late, and he could even have some leftover pizza for lunch so he wouldn’t need to cook. Decidedly, his friendship with Alexander was a good addition to his week, even if it meant having to lie to the rest of his friends and having to lend him his couch from time to time.

When he heard his doorbell ring, he smiled. He wasn’t even surprised the guy was balancing two pizza boxes against his right hip with one hand while his messenger bag hanged precariously from his left elbow as he held the phone against his ear with his left hand.

After Aaron retrieved the pizza boxes and he finally dropped the bag over the couch, Alexander looked considerably relieved, but kept talking on the phone about something that sounded like he was arranging a murder, all ‘no, at six downtown it can’t be, it’s too crowded’, and ‘you’re going to need more gasoline than that’. It was slightly creepy, so Aaron decided to occupy his mind on getting plates, napkins and cutlery. By the time he’d finished pouring diet coke on his glass, Alexander’s call was over and he was sitting down on the dining table with a sigh.

Aaron stared at him with an arched eyebrow, but said nothing, and Alexander chuckled. “You’d be tired too after the conversation I just had. Hey, I hope you liked what I got. You mentioned onions and chicken were good together.”

“They do,” he nodded, “oh, and you got mushrooms too. Nice.”

“I’m awesome, I know,” grinned Alexander. “You’re seriously not going to ask about my phone call?”

“I’m afraid to.”

The reporter laughed cheerfully. “It must have sounded weird. A friend of mine will propose to her girlfriend in the park and is planning a big thing, with fire and birds and is going to be huge.”

“It sounds dangerous.”

“It does,” admitted Alexander around a mouthful of pizza. A piece of chicken fell down just as he was about to bite down and a strip of cheese dangled from the corner of his mouth.

Aaron slid a napkin towards Alexander. “My uncle wants you to come to my aunt’s birthday.”

“What?”

Aaron sighed. “Yes. For some reason he concluded we were together. I guess Angelica wasn’t precisely discreet about it all, and I introduced you as her friend, so…” he shrugged, “he wants you to come,” he rubbed his face with a hand. “He’s trying to be supportive. I hadn’t noticed but apparently they too were a little impatient about me finding someone new.”

“I’m a little shocked. They don’t even care that I’m a guy?”

“My first boyfriend was a guy. If it was ever a problem, it was a long time ago, and by now, I think really anyone would do,” he grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t get them.”

Alexander downed half of his diet coke in one go. “Sometimes we can’t see what to others is obvious. Maybe you really were in a dark place. You need to get some beer.”

Aaron knew he’d been in a dark place, but he didn’t think he’d gotten out of there thanks to Alexander. He rubbed the back of his neck and pursed his lips. “But nothing’s changed, they just think it did, and they’re all relieved. I don’t like beer.”

“If they convinced that dating would solve all your problems, they don’t need to see for themselves that it did, they just have to believe it really badly.” He finally used the napkin but somehow managed to miss half the sauce. “How can you not like beer? I’ll get you some.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and considered grabbing a second slice. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Anyway, the party will be next week’s Saturday.” He took another and absentmindedly passed Alexander another napkin. “Do you think you can make it? You can say no, of course. I can find an excuse.”

“No, don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun.” He eyed the napkin for a moment, as if it was a strange object, but eventually used it and managed to miss the sauce spot, again. “Your uncle was really funny.”

Aaron arched his eyebrows. “If you say so…” he bit his bottom lip and deliberated telling Alexander exactly where the sauce was.

“You’re helping your uncle to get everything ready? Is it going to be like a huge party or what? Tell me what to expect so I won’t embarrass you,” he winked and took what was possibly his fourth slice of pizza.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head. “Well, it’s not going to be too large, there’s probably going to be around thirty people,” he poured himself more coke, “it’s going to be in the afternoon and there’s going to be a lot of food, a lot of champagne and wine and a string quartet.”

“That… sounds like a large party, if you ask me.”

Aaron shrugged with a sheepish smile, and took his plate to the kitchen. While he was there, Alexander joined him and brought the two boxes with him. One was empty, but the other was full, and yet Alexander left both of them on top of one counter. Aaron considered throw a damp cloth to his face. “Angelica told me we should get together with more people,” he said instead. “Apparently your friends are making her crazy, asking about me, and a friend of mine is doing the same about you.”

Alexander sighed and leaned back against the counter. “Well, we knew we’d have to convince them at some point. And I’ve been doing a good job in the office, by the way,” he winked.

Aaron snorted and left the kitchen. “That’s good,” he grabbed his glass from the dining room and went to sit at the center table in the living room. “You’re only doing your part; I’m not going to congratulate you over it.”

“Wow, you’re not a supportive boyfriend. What a surprise,” deadpanned Alexander, following him. “Well, I guess we can’t delay it much. How does this Sunday sound?”

“You sure?” Aaron was surprised. He thought it was a little soon. “I mean, we don’t exactly act… how are we supposed to act?”

“Relax, it’s not like they’ll ask to see us making out—well,” he licked his lips, but there was still sauce on his face, “my friends might,” he chuckled, “but we can say no. It’ll be fine. We’re adults. We’re not expected to be all over each other.”

Aaron nodded. “Okay…”

“Although,” Alexander bit his bottom lip, “perhaps we should hold hands and that sort of thing. Like, sit next to each other. Honestly it’s not weird for me to sit on my friends’ laps, so they’ll probably find it weird if we don’t touch much.”

“So we _are_ expected to be all over each other,” Aaron groaned.

“Well, I guess that depends. I mean, we’re two people. A relationship is supposed to be about balance. Okay, let’s see. Pretend we’re having a little get-together with some close friends, no strangers, and we’re sitting on the couch, we’ve had a few drinks and we’re talking about… dogs.”

“Dogs.”

“Well, cats, right, you’re a cat person.”

“Why would we be talking about cats?”

“I don’t know. A friend of yours adopted one, against their will, so they’re trying to convince us to take it. How should we be sitting?”

“Well…” he gulped and looked around. For starters, no matter how many drinks he’d had, he wouldn’t be sitting on the floor, so he stood up, and got startled when Alexander followed. He licked his lips and tried to imagine William in the ridiculous situation Alexander described, and had to laugh because he actually could—William was allergic to cats, but it wouldn’t be weird for him to start caring about one if he saw them out the window one day. William always sat on the chair nearest the right end of the couch, which was the one Aaron would use, since it was closest to the kitchen. He sat, and Alexander sat by his side. Was that enough? Theodosia used to sit in another chair, but they had been together for so long, it wasn’t weird, it was only natural. She had picked that chair. Now nobody used that chair. But before they had gotten married, did they sit closer? Did they ever share a couch?

“Okay, just let me…” Alexander passed his right arm over the backrest of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing Aaron’s arm. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded. It was weird, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He’d thought having Alexander so close would be uncomfortable, but the only thing that really fell out of place was the silence, not the proximity. “Alright, so we’re talking about cats. Is this a small cat, or a large cat?”

Alexander chuckled and cleared his throat, trying to answer solemnly: “Well, it’s young, but not a kitten; and it’s not obese, but it’s not slim either. Your friend, is this your friend William? I thought it could be your friend William. He sounds like the kind of guy that would start feeding a strange cat and then need help. Anyway, he’s been feeding him a lot, so perhaps the cat used to be very thin, but there’s no trace of it now.”

Aaron nodded, his chest shook with laughter. “Yes, he probably did. Okay,” after hesitating a moment, he threw his head back, using Alexander’s arm for a pillow. “He’s trying to convince me to take the cat, and for some unexplainable reason you’re on his side.”

Alexander pressed their thighs together. “Well you like cats! And you got space, and are probably more competent than William. Perhaps his wife is allergic?”

Aaron chuckled. “I’m not sure if she is, but William is.”

“He’s allergic to cats?”

“Yes, but I can totally see him feeding a strange cat through the window.”

“I’ve never met him and I think he might. Alright, so I’m on his side, I’m trying to convince you…” It took Aaron a moment to realize Alexander had tilted his head to the side, pressing his cheek to his shoulder, and was staring at him. As Aaron turned his head, they ended up only a few inches apart. “Okay?” asked Alexander in a whisper.

“Okay.”

“You’ll take the cat?”

Aaron narrowed his eyes. “There’s a real cat somewhere, right?”

Alexander bit his bottom lip and nodded. It was distracting, that close. There was still sauce on his face. “My friend, the one that’s allergic to flowers, Hercules? He started leaving food for him outside, but now the cat is always at the door and my friend is really allergic. It’s terrible because with the rain he started letting him in, and now there’s cat hair everywhere and I don’t think I’ve heard his voice unaltered in weeks. All of us started carrying tissues all the time to offer him when we see him.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It is.”

Aaron hummed. “Okay, I’ll take him. Does he have a name?”

“Not yet. We just call him cat.”

“ _Breakfast_ _at_ _Tiffany’s_ much?”

Alexander chuckled. “I think that’s Hercules’s favorite movie.”

“There’s sauce on your face,” whispered Aaron.

“What?” Alexander squealed. “You maniac, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“I handed you like fifty napkins and you kept missing it. Hang on…” he went back to the table for another napkin and sat again, sideways so he was facing Alexander, and finally cleaned it. “There. Finally! It was driving me crazy.”

“You have a problem.”

“No. You had a huge spot of red on your face and beard. It was upsetting.”

Alexander gasped with false indignation. “Only for that, I’ll tell my friends to come here with the cat this Friday.”

“That’s not fair!”

“It very much is! And convenient for you, actually,” he flexed his elbow and supported his temple on his fist. “On Friday John will be busy covering an event in the Bronx, so you’ll only have to meet Hercules and Lafayette, and they’ll be far more interested in how the cat will be doing, so…”

Aaron had heard a few things about Hercules and Lafayette, but not nearly enough as to form an accurate mental image of the pair, like apparently Alexander had done about Van Ness. The idea of meeting them was slightly terrifying, but it certainly sounded better to meet two people and a cat instead of three. That night it took him two hours of tossing and turning around in bed to fall asleep, and the fact that Alexander was on his couch only made it more uncomfortable, since the last thing he wanted was for the man to notice he was having trouble sleeping. Eventually he fell asleep, and didn’t wake up until noon, in a state of utter confusion, to find a note on the center table where Alexander explained he had left for work and had eaten another slice of pizza.

Aaron rolled his eyes and got ready for work himself. He had enough time to eat himself and still make it to school in time. That afternoon he went for groceries and tried asking Alexander what his friends would like, but the guy was clueless.

‘ _How can you not know if your friends are allergic to anything?_ ’ Aaron had asked.

‘ _I don’t know! Do you know everything about your friends? Just get alcohol and chips._ ’

‘ _What are we, thirteen?_ ’

At the end, he figured seafood and dried fruits might be problematic but sausages and fondue should be okay, and even bought some beer against his better judgment. Then went to get everything he thought he would need for the cat, and only changed his mind about the bed about four times. By Friday night, he thought he was doing okay.

If Alexander’s arched eyebrow was any indicator, he disagreed. “Calm down,” he mumbled. “Everything’s perfect. Those little canapés you did look and smell delicious and I can’t believe you got Cat so many stuff. My friends are going to love you. Relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

Alexander snorted, but whatever he was about to say got forgotten when the doorbell rang, and Aaron considered jumping out the window. He gasped softly and went then to make sure no window was open so the cat wouldn’t be in any danger while Alexander opened for his friends. He was back just in time to say hello.

Aaron had already seen pictures of Hercules and Lafayette, but he worried he might get the names mixed so avoided them until he heard them out of their own mouths. Alexander had warned him Lafayette would probably hug him, but he still stiffened when it happened, and knew his smile looked strained, so he went with what he thought he could manage:

“Is this Cat?” he asked, attracting the cat out of the box they had left on the floor with a snack.

Hercules chuckled. “Yes, this is Cat. Thank you for doing this.”

Aaron shook his head, while petting the orange tabby cat that was eating from his other hand. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Hercules watched him, and bit his bottom lip. “Are you going to change his name?”

“I had thought of giving him a boring name, yes,” he admitted, glancing up at Hercules, “something like Fred,” he grinned and turned to see the cat again. He was purring. “Do you like Fred? Yes?”

“Oh, the cat likes him,” said Lafayette, wide-eyed. “He doesn’t do that,” he pointed at how the cat was circling, petting himself with Aaron’s hand.

“He does,” Hercules grinned. “He’s going to be happy here.”

“Yes, he will. Can we eat now?” asked Alexander. “These smell delicious and Aaron didn’t even let me taste one while he was making them.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and stood up holding the cat in his arms. “Oh, poor you. Give me one with salmon, please.”

Alexander handed him one and gasped when Aaron gave it to the cat. “Seriously? The cat gets to eat before I do?”

“Yes, of course he does. And his name is Fred now, he liked it.”

“And he likes your food too,” commented Lafayette with a sneer. He then tried one of the salmon canapés himself and moaned. “And I do too, sweet Jesus, now I understand why Alexander stopped eating out.”

“Let me have one,” muttered Hercules, and turned to Aaron with raised eyebrows. “This is delicious.”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s not precisely complicated, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“Yeah, keep complimenting him. He’s been freaking out since we decided to do this.”

Aaron tried not to glare at him, he really did, but didn’t quite manage it. At least Alexander’s friends found it funny, and the rest of the evening passed in a similar state of humor and sincere affection. There was a point a few hours later when Aaron realized only after several minutes that he was, in fact, being subtly interrogated by Hercules, but it wasn’t as mortifying as it could’ve been if only because the way it had been done was particularly clever and fascinating. Lafayette censured him, though, and apologized on his behalf. Aaron decided the couple was delightful and genuinely wished to repeat the experience. Besides, Fred seemed to like the apartment. Around nine p.m. he’d found the bed Aaron had gotten him and slept there like the dead. Alexander slept on the couch again, and Saturday morning the three of them had breakfast together. Alexander complained again because Aaron fed him roughly half of the eggs he had done, but Aaron ignored him. All in all, he was happy.

And happy he was when he met Van Ness for lunch later that day. Alexander had almost stayed to meet him, but there was some new development on a story he was working on and had to run there, not without promising to be back for dinner so he could meet Aaron’s best friend.

“I got to admit I’m slightly offended that Alexander’s friends already met you but I haven’t met him,” said Van Ness, pouting.

Aaron bit his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. But you’ll meet him tonight, I promise.”

The man hummed. Fred had already been in the apartment long enough for William’s nose to notice, so it sounded funny. Aaron chuckled. “I think Alexander is going to like you.”

“Shouldn’t you be telling _me_ that _I’ll_ like him?”

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly sure you will. If I got to be honest, my first impression of him wasn’t the best.” He didn’t know why he said that. They were supposed to have started this thing that very first night, but he’d always been honest to William, and he actually liked Alexander now, so it felt natural to talk about how he hadn’t at first, because he could say he eventually did. He bit his bottom lip. “He can be a little overwhelming. He’s argumentative and loud, but overall… he’s really nice, and witty, and charming…”

Van Ness covered his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. “You really like this guy, don’t you? I’m glad. I already like him, just for that.”

Aaron knew he had good friends, but sometimes William would go and say stuff like that and he’d just be struck with the realization that he was really lucky Van Ness had forgotten to bring a pen for his first day in ninth grade. He remembers back then he’d thought, ‘ _what kind of person forgets to bring a pen for the first day of school?_ ’, and not long after he would learn what kind of person Van Ness was, and it would make perfect sense. Just like it would make perfect sense for him to interrogate Hamilton like he was a terrorist in D.C., but the reporter didn’t complain. He even answered some stuff Aaron didn’t know about, like that he’d had two dogs growing up and that he didn’t come to New York until he was nine. All in all, it was an entertaining evening, but evenings with Van Ness always were. Still, it was nice to know that he could have both William and Alexander over and only have fun. They were his best friend and his fake-boyfriend, after all, two very important aspects of his life, and they needed to get along.

The question after that was whether his fake-boyfriend could handle the other important aspect of Aaron’s life: his family.

Aaron was close to his family. He wouldn’t say he was the type to go and have heart-to-heart conversations with his Aunt and Uncle, but he saw them often and spent all holidays with them and a dozen of other relatives. He would like his cousins’ pictures on Facebook and Instagram, would get them appropriate gifts for their birthdays, and knew the names of all their children. He cared about their wellbeing and wanted them to have a favorable opinion of him.

Almost everyone would be at his Aunt’s birthday, so even if he could avoid any significant conversations, news would certainly get around, and with only one person having an informed opinion on the reporter would be enough for the entire family to make up their minds. To say that Aaron was nervous about that was an understatement, but on Saturday morning he went to his Uncle’s house and supervised everything proficiently, and a cab took him to Alexander’s apartment almost twenty minutes early. It was odd to realize that he’d never been inside. He considered texting him to let him know he was outside, but it wouldn’t be polite to arrive so early, so he just exited the cab and informed the guy he’d have to wait for a while.

He almost had a heart attack when seven minutes later Alexander muttered ‘Boo’ in his ear, but he recovered as fast as he could while both, Hamilton _and_ the taxi driver laughed their asses off, but Alexander apologized and Aaron decided glaring wouldn’t do his face any favors, nor to his already very agitated heart.

By the time they arrived to his Uncle’s house, there was already quite a crowd gathered in the backyard, and Aaron made their entrance as quiet and subtle as he could, so they wouldn’t have to go around greeting every single guest. His aunt was easy to spot, and after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed Alexander’s hand and walked to meet her.

When she saw them, she gasped loudly and smiled delighted, quickly extending her arms to Aaron.

“Happy birthday, Aunt Rhoda,” muttered Aaron as he hugged her tightly.

“Thank you, dear,” she grinned. “And you must be Alexander! It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Hello, and happy birthday! I’ve heard a lot about you!”

She threw her head back with laughter, and her surprise was not exaggerated. “Only good things, I hope.”

“I doubt your husband or Aaron would have anything to say about you that wasn’t good.”

Aaron released a shaky breath. He should’ve known he didn’t need to worry. He was certain now, that when they made their breakup official, his aunt would _cry_.

A cousin made him a sign from the other side of the yard, and he really could use some time away from his aunt sounding like a fifteen-year-old girl talking to her first crush, so he said: “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, sure…” Alexander gulped.

Aaron disappeared in the crowd, and Alexander stayed glued to Rhoda’s side for a minute or two. The woman was super nice, but she was having at least three different conversations with a bunch of other ladies wearing very similar outfits and Aaron’s uncle was far away laughing with somebody else as well. He tried to spot one of the waiters with alcohol, but couldn’t find any, and sighed heavily once he was a few feet away from the loud crowd.

“You don’t look like you’re having a great time,” said one girl—perhaps the only other young person in the entire party—grinning wickedly.

“Well, you don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” replied Alexander, pointedly staring at the glass she was holding in one hand and the phone in the other.

She rolled her eyes. “Forgive me for not being overexcited about playing at the happy family with a bunch of old people. Uncle Tim can be a nice guy, but he’s not my father, and Aunt Rhoda is most definitely not my mother.”

Alexander blinked. “Okay.”

She frowned. “What did Aaron tell you?”

“About what, exactly?”

“About _them_ ,” she licked her lips. “How long have you guys been together, again?”

“Honestly we just started,” he rubbed the back of his neck and gulped. “I mean, we’ve known each other for… two months, now?”

She raised an eyebrow and pocketed her phone.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just get why Aaron didn’t want to bring you.”

Alexander frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not about you,” she chuckled. “I’m Sally, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?”

“We have not.”

“Well, I’m Sally,” she extended a hand and he shook it. Her grip was firm, probably firmer than Aaron’s but Alexander realized they had never actually shaken hands so he couldn’t be sure. “I’m Aaron’s sister. And honestly, he always delayed the ‘meet the in-laws’ as long as he could. This is most definitely kind of early. You see, in their enthusiasm for being supportive they can be a little…”

“Loud and ridiculous?”

“Exactly,” she nodded, spotted a waiter with champagne glasses, and took another for herself and one for Alexander. They clashed their glasses together and drank it all before anyone talked again.

Alexander was the first to do it. He shrugged and said: “I think they’re nice.”

“That’s pretty much the family motto, Alex—can I call you Alex? Alexander is such a long name.”

“Your brother calls me Alexander.”

“My brother is a little stiff, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He chuckled without really intending to, and she smiled a little more honestly.

“But he’s better. I don’t know if it’s because of you, but…” she shrugged. “Have you tried his food yet? He’s a very good cook.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She seemed surprised by that.

“What? Is that a six months anniversary kind of thing for him?”

“No,” she swallowed, “he actually used to cook all the time. Theodosia was terrible in the kitchen. One time I asked her to peel a potato and, well, she did. She just threw away half of the potato while she was at it, and got cuts on like eight fingers.”

Alexander threw his head back as he laughed. “Seriously? And here I thought I was terrible!”

She nodded. “I’ve never met anyone worst. Anyway, after she passed, Aaron hardly cooked. I guess making food for himself wasn’t appealing, you know? And I get it. It’s nice to hear he’s cooking again, even if it’s once or twice a week.”

“Actually, I think he’s doing it most days. Just the other day, you remember the big storm? Well, I went to his place because the power went out in my apartment, and he’d been cooking, and it was Tuesday. You must know he hates Wednesdays, so it surprised me he was doing anything, I mean, he says he tries to do the bare minimum so he can make it the next day.”

She stared at him openmouthed for a moment, blinked, and remembered to close it. Then she said: “It’s good to hear that.” Somebody called her name and she cussed under her breath. “I need to go see why they’re calling me,” she smacked his shoulder lightly and went away as Alexander waved goodbye.

“I can see you met my sister,” said Aaron, slipping next to him with two glasses of champagne.

“Yeah, she’s got quite the sense of humor,” commented Alexander taking one glass for himself and immediately downing half of it in one sip.

“She hates my aunt.”

“Then why would she come to her birthday?”

“She raised us,” Aaron shrugged. “I mean, sure, we never called her mom but that’s what she was to us, you know?”

“Your sister said she wasn’t.”

“My sister remembers our parents. I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Aaron looked away, but Alexander had spent enough time with him by then to notice he was searching the right words to discard the subject. Maybe it was impulsive, but Alexander was in fact famous because of his poor impulse control. He said: “I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I’m an orphan too. I mean, I don’t really know if my father is dead, since he left when I was a kid, but my mom died when I was twelve.”

“I’m sorry for your loss…” he licked his lips, “that sucks. Who did you live with then?”

“A cousin, though he then killed himself, but then a guy that had dated my mom for a while kind of adopted me.”

Aaron was staring at him in shock, but managed to mumble: “Kind of?”

“It was more like a temporary fix? He was my guardian, but I haven’t heard much from him since I left for college. I mean, I’m grateful because if it weren’t for him I can’t know what would’ve happened to me, but we never were exactly a family. He did it more out of love for my mother than for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know it sounds awful but I was fine. How old were you when your parents died?” He probably should’ve tried to change the subject but he’d already drank enough for his poor judgment to turn even worse.

“I was two years old,” he took another sip of his glass.

“Oh, shit.”

Aaron snorted. “Come on. Aunt Rhoda is about to open her presents, and my uncle already told her you had helped him pick his.”

“Oh, crap. And what if she doesn’t like it?”

“She’s going to love it, don’t worry.”

He groaned. “This is going to be so awkward. Besides I only got her what you told me too. Are you sure she’s going to like it? It’s so simple…”

“Alexander, wine is always perfect, especially for her, believe me. Or do you honestly believe I’d let you come here without a decent present? And she already loves you.”

Alexander gave him an incredulous look, but Aaron ignored him. He was feeling good about himself and was unreasonably proud of his fake-boyfriend. The party was going well, the guests were sensibly tipsy, the music was pleasant and his Aunt was happy. Even his sister seemed to be enjoying herself talking something over with Matthias far away from the noise, and he suspected her conversation with Alexander had something to do with her positive mood. That, and the alcohol. Alcohol tended to cheer up people too, similarly to Alexander.

Three weeks later, Alexander was joining him for dinner almost every night, and they never talked about how they weren’t even making sure their friends knew it.

“Don’t you have a TV?” asked Alexander one night, the moment he entered the apartment.

“I do,” Aaron frowned, “but it’s in my bedroom.”

Alexander blinked. “I guess that makes sense. Huh.”

“Why?”

“I’m following the Edwards’s case but I can’t eat and check Twitter at the same time. Well I can, but it would be rude to you. Hearing the news, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so rude.”

Aaron bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. “I guess we can eat in my bedroom. Just, be careful to not drop anything.”

“You have a little of an OCD, you know that, right?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I do not.”

“Yes you do,” Alexander giggled, “but I don’t mind. Okay, let’s go! I’ve never seen your bedroom. I’m excited.”

Aaron smiled tightly, but Alexander was too distracted to actually notice, and he probably wouldn’t have guessed what was really going on either. The Edwards’s case was just too interesting. It all had started after Pierpont Edwards’s son in law had been accused of rape by his secretary. Soon enough the case had been dismissed, but the media had removed enough the ground around the family to start making questions about one pastor Jonathan Edwards (Pierpont’s brother), who apparently had a certain gambling problem and may or may not be using the charity money for it. Then, the media had followed the story back to his brother Pierpont who, as Circuit Judge, was in charge to make sure everything always went away, and did it well. His credibility and reliability were put in doubt, and not long after there were questions about corruption and a lot of other names were popping out with different accusations. The high society of Manhattan was freaking out. It was a miracle nobody was talking about the school the family owned; whether it was because there was nothing scandalous about it or because enough powerful people were involved to keep it quiet, Aaron didn’t know, but it was a poor comfort. Sally acted like she didn’t mind, but last time they had lunch together he noticed even she was stressed. She was a painter. Her life and job couldn’t be further away from the Edwards’s family, but she still was feeling affected by the mess they were in, and that had only made Aaron feel worse about the entire situation. He’d known a few things, but he never imagined Aunt Eunice could’ve had an affair with her husband’s brother, or that Aunt Susannah got somewhat involved with a prostitution network. Those people, the cartoonist picture the media was painting of them, were nothing like the people he’d grown up around, and it was shocking and sickening. It was his family, and yet, everybody talked about them like they did about celebrities. They’d never been public figures, they’d never been the high class monsters the media was talking about, and if Aaron heard one more conversation about it on TV he was going to be sick. But he couldn’t blame Alexander for being interested, because everybody was, and the man was an investigative reporter after all. Saying that he knew those people would only turn the atmosphere awkward, so he said nothing, and focused on eating. Alexander’s eyes were on the TV the whole time, and barely noticed when the plates were empty.

“I’ll help you in a minute, let me just…”

“Don’t worry,” Aaron sighed. “It’ll only take a minute.”

Washing the dishes always helped him breathe when the air was too heavy. He considered lingering in the kitchen until the news were over, but he knew Alexander would come looking for him and ask what was wrong if he did, and he really wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as he could. So once he was done, he went back to the bedroom and let the cat go with him; Freed jumped in the bed and settled on his chest, as Aaron absentmindedly petted his head. If there was anything he was particularly good at, it was at procrastinating. Thus he decided he would leave that conversation for later, and he would manage it because avoidance was his specialty.

õ֍õ

The very next day, Alexander got inside practically bouncing and threw his messenger bag on the couch, immediately taking out his laptop. “Hey, how was your day? Mine was great. What are you cooking? It smells delicious. They put me in charge of the story on the Edwards’s case! Can you believe it?”

Aaron blinked, trying to process the vomit of words Hamilton had thrown at him. “My day was fine, I guess. I’m making pasta, and of course I can believe it. Congratulations, I guess?”

“You guess? This is great!”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, first of all! This case is so big everyone reads everything about it, and I already follow it so really, writing about it is only natural, they’re basically paying me to write about my day. Besides, how many times does the police actually pursue this sort of case? This is historic. I love it.”

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, hunching slightly. “They haven’t proved anything yet. Perhaps it is not as big as you think it is.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Aaron, be realistic, please.”

“I am,” he shrugged, managing to look even smaller.

Alexander narrowed his eyes and stared at him for a moment. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“I know something’s bothering you, and it’s about this case. What, you know them or something?”

“What makes you think that?”

Alexander shrugged. “I don’t know. I noticed your family’s rich, from the same neighborhood…”

“Just from that?”

“Well, you’re acting all defensive of them and I know you usually wouldn’t be on their side unless you felt some sympathy for them, so what is it?”

Aaron released a shaky breath and nodded. He couldn’t avoid it anymore.

“You know them?”

“Alexander, I _am_ Edwards. My mother was Esther Edwards, daughter of Jonathan and Sarah Edwards. My uncle Tim, the guy you met, is Timothy Edwards.”

“La Croix is the school they own,” Alexander whispered. “Oh, shit.” He sat on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, shit. I can’t write about it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can.”

“No, not if I’m dating you. I’m biased.”

“No you’re not. I am not a suspect and we’re not actually dating. If it becomes a burden for your career we can just break up.”

Alexander shook his head. “That wouldn’t work; it would still be too personal. I’m too close to it.”

“No, you’re not. This is the first time you hear about it, and nobody needs to know. It’s not like you’re a member of the jury or an attorney. You’re a reporter. You can still write about it.”

“People always find out at the end, it would destroy my credibility, I can’t. Don’t worry. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Aaron, expression miserable and biting his bottom lip. “I could still try and get you an exclusive with my uncle Pierpont.”

Alexander stared openmouthed, and Aaron released a watery chuckle. “He’s my uncle too. He was in my aunt’s birthday. I can’t believe you didn’t see him.”

“I didn’t exactly know how he looked like back then. Oh my god, Aaron, yes. Please, get an interview for ‘The Inquisitor’? Tell him that it won’t be me doing the interview, though.”

“Of course. I’ll call him right now.”

Alexander squealed. “Yes, yes, thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it. I like my uncle Pierpont, and I believe he likes me too…” he started pacing as he dialed the phone. “Hello? Uncle Pierpont, yes, it’s me. How are you doing? I can imagine… hey, remember Aunt Rhoda’s birthday? Yes, actually I was calling you because of him, you see, he’s a reporter… uh huh, he works for an independent newspaper, ‘ _The_ _Inquisitor’_ , and I was wondering if… yeah, yeah, that would be great. Thank you! Sleep tight.”

“So?”

“He’ll be in your office the day after tomorrow, at three.”

“He remembered me?”

Aaron shrugged. “He remembered I brought a guy with me. You two didn’t exactly talk, so don’t worry.”

“That is actually quite relieving,” said Alexander, smiling. He was surprised at his own acceptance. He’d been so excited about it, he thought he’d be destroyed if anything took the story from him, but he wasn’t even mad. Perhaps it had to do with how wretched Aaron had looked, or how he’d suggested they could break up just so he could keep writing, but also the fact that Pierpont Edwards, who had stayed far away from the media since this whole mess had started, was willing to do an interview with them, all that was making his hear beat faster.

Or maybe that was because of how adorable Aaron looked holding the cat in his arms.

Still, speaking the words out loud in Washington’s office was one of the toughest things he’d ever done.

“I can’t make a story for the Edwards’s case.”

Washington frowned. “Why not?”

Alexander licked his lips. “My… my boyfriend is related to them, to the Edwards family. He’s Pierpont’s nephew, actually. The good news is that he got us an interview with him. Tomorrow at three p.m., right here.”

“Okay, I understand…” Washington never stopped frowning, but Alexander had concluded many years ago that that was just his resting face. The man licked his lips while staring at his desk as if it had personally offended him, and after a few seconds he nodded. “That’s good. Thank you for your honesty, and thank your boyfriend for the interview.”

Alexander thought the man might have smirked as he said the last part, but he couldn’t be sure and honestly, didn’t want to know either. He was dismissed then and barely caught his tongue before he asked who would get the story then. He suspected who would, and if he’d gotten those suspicious confirmed then, his reaction would have been… inappropriate for the workplace, to say the least.

He thought the worst had passed, and the rest of the day went on without a mishap, but then, just when he was leaving…

“Hey Hamilton, I heard you abandoned the story on the Edwards’s case. Why’s that?”

He gritted his teeth. “Leave me alone, Jefferson.”

The man sniggered. “What? You finally admitted you’re not as good as you say you are?”

“I had a conflict of interests,” he grumbled.

“What?”

“My boyfriend is an Edwards, okay?”

A different voice asked from behind him: “What?”

Alexander paled. “Oh shit…” he ran a hand through his hair and turned around. “Angelica, wait, please…”

“I don’t understand,” she shook her head and frowned. “Aaron is related to them? To the principal, Timothy?”

“Yeah…” he licked his lips, “but he really doesn’t feel comfortable saying it.”

“Why? I’m his friend. I know he’s good at his job, I wouldn’t judge him over it… I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!”

“And you knew your boss was an Edwards?”

“I know that’s his last name,” she shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what’s his relation to Pierpont. But I’m guessing you do, Alexander?”

“Please don’t get mad at him.”

“Tell me what you know, Hamilton.”

He bit his bottom lip and looked around, inspecting his friends’ different expressions. Lafayette was frowning and Hercules was pouting, Laurens had his eyebrows arched and seemed amused, next to Jefferson who was also entertained by the drama. “Your boss is Pierpont’s brother, Angelica. Please don’t tell Aaron I told you.”

She blinked. “It was an accident, I can tell him that.”

“No, Angelica, please…” he licked his lips. “If he was embarrassed before, can you imagine how he feels now?”

“But how could I hide from him that I know? Besides he has nothing to be embarrassed about, you must know that. He’s not guilty of anything but having bad luck with genetics.”

“Insecurities aren’t always rational.”

“Sure, and letting them grow without addressing them isn’t rational, nor healthy either. I’m sorry,” she shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. “Look, I’ll let you tell him, okay? Are you seeing him before Friday?”

Alexander nodded tiredly.

“He goes to his place almost every day,” clarified Laurens.

“Oh,” she blinked, “okay. Then tonight, tell him what happened. I’m sorry… tell him I’m sorry he’s having to go through this shit. He’s a good guy, and you are one too.”

Alexander knew that was her non-cheesy way of telling him they would ‘get through it’, but he really didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to yell that they wouldn’t because there wasn’t a relationship that needed to survive anything in the first place. He wanted to yell that Aaron didn’t have to put up with any of his indiscretions because he didn’t, in fact, feel anything for him. He wanted to yell that she was putting in jeopardy what little he had with the guy just because she didn’t feel comfortable omitting some information she really had no business discussing in the first place. He wanted to yell, because he knew he’d fallen in love with a man that didn’t love him back, but couldn’t complain to anybody because he was supposed to be in a relationship with that man already and now he would lose him forever.

That evening, he went back to Aaron’s place feeling like crap. In the last month his routine had changed drastically to adjust the teacher’s schedule, and his body permanently ached from sleeping in a couch more often than not, but he’d sell, hell, he’d give his apartment away if it meant he’d get to have breakfast with Aaron every morning, even on Mondays and Wednesdays, when he had to wake up at six thirty to do it. He even had a key now. He opened the door and as usual he could smell something delicious getting cooked, but Aaron wasn’t in the kitchen. That in itself wasn’t weird. There were several dishes that didn’t require supervision and Aaron would usually wait for them to be ready grading papers in the living room or preparing his classes, but sometimes he would be in his bedroom. Alexander hadn’t known he had a TV there, but now he could imagine when he was there, he was actually watching a movie or something. Since he was anywhere to be seen, Alexander went to check on the bedroom. Until the day before yesterday, he never would have done it. He would’ve sat on the living room or used the bathroom and simply yell for him, let him know he was inside, but things changed, and the cat wasn’t around either.

If Fred could be wherever Aaron was, then so could Alexander.

He found him in the bedroom, but the TV wasn’t on. For a moment Alexander thought he was sleeping, but he wasn’t. He was just lying in bed, with the cat on his chest, and staring into the void.

“Hey,” he muttered.

If Aaron was surprised to hear him, he didn’t show. Fred seemed more surprise, if only because he was faster to turn and watch him. Aaron merely turned his face, very slowly. “Hey. I’m making something in the oven. It should be ready soon.”

“Okay. I’ll set the table then.”

“Okay. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Alexander nodded and went back in his feet. He noticed the timer in the kitchen and noticed there still were almost thirty minutes left for the thing to be ready, so he sighed and merely took half the stuff to the table and didn’t even place them correctly. He was about to when Aaron appeared, going directly to the couch.

“How are you doing?” Alexander asked softly.

Aaron shrugged and let Fred walk over his arm to finally make himself comfortable on the couch’s backrest right behind his neck. Aaron had to move slightly so he wouldn’t crush him. “I’m mostly shocked about it all, you know?”

“You never suspected anything?”

“No… I mean, sure, Uncle Jonathan surely got a little loud when playing cards, and Aunt Rhoda would tell my uncle that Aunt Susannah’s behavior was indecent and she shouldn’t be around children, but beyond that…” he sighed, “it was a normal, old money family, you know? Who got together for holidays and birthday parties and always looked well in their suits and dresses. Eli always had a terrible sense of humor but I never thought he could go and rape someone.”

“The case got dismissed.”

“Yes, but what if my uncle really did something for that? He married my cousin. I’m supposed to get them something for Christmas.”

Alexander bit his bottom lip and sat next to him, without expecting Aaron’s head to come rest on his shoulder but welcomed it anyway. “And have you like, talked about it, with anyone?”

“With Sally, once,” he sighed, “but it was awkward and we both wanted to change the subject. It’s not like we can be certain of what truly happened, but I’m not going to go to my cousin and be like, ‘ _Hey, Hen, what do you think? Did he do it?_ ’ I’m not going to do that.”

“No, of course not,” muttered Alexander, absentmindedly roaming a finger over Aaron’s hand, circling each knuckle and then tracing the length of each finger. “I hadn’t really stopped to think how messed up the entire situation must be for the family.”

“Nobody does, but that’s okay. I mean, if they’re guilty they deserve this hell.”

“Yes, _them_ , not you…” he sighed and threw his head back, closing his eyes. “Please, don’t hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Remember I told you about Jefferson?”

“Your co-worker, the one you hate.”

“Yeah, today when I was leaving he started taunting me, asking me why I dropped the story and… I told him it was conflict of interests.”

“Okay…”

“And Angelica heard me.”

When the silence extended for too long, Alexander opened his eyes and turned to face his fake-boyfriend. He wished he hadn’t. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What was Angelica doing there?”

Alexander shrugged, helplessly. “I have no idea. The only times I’ve seen her there before it was for getting lunch with someone, but this happened around six thirty. If I’d noticed she was there I never would’ve done it. I’m sorry.”

Aaron stood up and started pacing around the room.

“I’m sorry,” Alexander repeated.

Aaron nodded, but didn’t say anything, and kept walking around.  Next to Alexander, Fred also followed his every movement with his eyes.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I can’t,” croaked Aaron, voice wobbly. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t plan it. I know you’re sorry but I…” he gulped, “I’m still angry.”

“Angelica said there was nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

“Of course she would,” Aaron clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Aaron…”

“I think you should go back to your place tonight.”

Alexander would’ve preferred getting punched in the face. He didn’t voice this. He merely nodded, petted Fred, and left without another word.

õ֍õ

Aaron didn’t actually want Alexander to leave. Sure, he wanted to smack the guy, but he’d always known how impulsive he was, and he never would’ve guessed Angelica would be there to listen. He wasn’t as mad as he probably looked. He was stressed, and angry at his family and sad because his life was going to hell and he wanted to cry, but he wasn’t angry at _Alexander_. In fact he very much wanted Alexander to be there. He heard the timer but ignored it, trying to convince himself that he needed to eat, but he hadn’t eaten dinner alone in weeks, and didn’t want to. He only turned off the oven because he wasn’t idiotic enough to burn his apartment because he’d screwed up the one relationship that hadn’t been affected by the mess that was going on.

Even if his colleagues in La Croix didn’t know, ever since the scandal with Eli had occurred, he’d been distant, trying to shelter himself from the eventual outcome of everybody finding out. His friends, like Van Ness and Caroline that knew his uncle and aunt would look at him with concern, and his family were all as stressed and tired as he was.  But Alexander had heard, and his opinion of him hadn’t changed at all. He hadn’t even treated him differently, no; the way he moved or talked was not affected by any information he learned, but changed according Aaron’s mood. And when Aaron had been embarrassed he’d given him space, when he’d been sad he’d given him comfort, and when Aaron had gotten angry… he’d done as Aaron asked. He’d left. And now Aaron couldn’t tell if he would ever come back.

He couldn’t have that.

After almost three months, the fact that he’d never been inside Alexander’s apartment plainly irritated him, but they never discussed it and they started meeting at Aaron’s apartment all the time, with the occasional play or art gallery on the weekends, they didn’t really talk about where they should go, but Aaron suspected there was something else to it. There ought to be a reason for it, but all Aaron could think of was that Alexander didn’t want Aaron in his own space, which would’ve made sense if the reporter didn’t sleep most nights at Aaron’s place.

It was also unfair that he had to ring the doorbell, when Alexander already had a key to his apartment, and it was really annoying that he looked so shocked when he opened the door for him.

“Aaron?”

“I’m sorry,” he licked his lips and pushed the panic to the back of his head. He knew exactly what he wanted to say and there was no time to freak out anymore. He’d already done enough of that in the cab on the way there. “I was angry, but I wasn’t angry at you. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no,” Alexander moved aside so Aaron could walk inside. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I do. I do, I… I just don’t want to lose you.”

Alexander blinked. “Aaron, unless you get a restraining order or I die, you’re not going to lose me. You’re most definitely not going to lose me over me screwing up.”

“But you didn’t. It was an accident, and I—”

“Aaron,” Alexander cupped his face and forced him to stare eye to eye, “even if it was an accident, you were right to get mad at me. I was expecting that. And to be honest, I was worried,” he giggled, “I was worried I would lose you.”

“What?”

“Aaron, I believe we’re both idiots,” he licked his lips. His hands were probably sweating but he wasn’t intending to let go of Aaron anytime soon. “Don’t freak out on me, okay?” he waited for Aaron to nod to go on. “I fell in love with you, probably right after I tried that first stew, months ago, though I probably started back when you agreed with me about the pro-life activists.”

“What?”

Alexander chuckled. “You are adorable, but if you don’t tell me how you feel in the next thirty seconds I’m afraid I’m going to jump out the window.”

“You only live on the third floor. You’d survive.”

“ _Aaron_.”

“I don’t think I could tell you when it started,” whispered he, raising his right hand to cup Alexander’s cheek, “but right this moment? I can assure you, I am very much in love with you, Alexander Hamilton.”

Ever since they met, Aaron had always been capable of taking Alexander’s breath away, one way or another. At first it was only because of how he looked, or the clever remarks he would make from time to time, but the more he met him, the more he found himself out of breath over a tug of lips or a softly hummed melody. In a few months, Aaron had captivated him, but Alexander had the feeling that he would only keep falling for the guy every day if he kept throwing around phrases like that without any preparation.

To finally join their lips was the most natural thing in the world, especially because their fake relationship had been pretty realistic, all things considered, only lacking in that particular department, and Alexander was more than willing to make up for the wasted time, and as usual, they seemed to be on the same page. They stumbled into Alexander’s bedroom barely separating every few seconds for air, hands and arms and thighs touching as much as they could, and when that wasn’t enough, when the clothes were getting in the way, they took them all off brusquely and fast. It was like they couldn’t get enough of each other, but it didn’t last long. None of them had been with anyone since the whole mess had started—they’d been too busy trying to make their relationship look believable for their too intrusive friends.

“That was fun,” mumbled Alexander in between gasps.

Aaron chuckled. “It was. I’d like to do it again sometime. I could use a shower now, though.”

Alexander paled. “Oh, yeah, that…”

Aaron frowned. “What is it?”

About six minutes later, Aaron understood why Alexander never invited him over. Aaron knew he was a little exaggerated, but a shower was the place where one was supposed to go get clean. And if that was the state of his shower, he didn’t want to imagine the kitchen, much less the sink or toilet.

Alexander groaned. “Come on, it’s not so bad. Stop looking at it like it murdered Fred.”

“I would never let Fred anywhere near this dumpster.”

“I’m just not very good at cleaning. Besides, I barely come here anymore—what are you doing?”

“This will have to do,” Aaron grumbled and poured cleaner in the walls and floor of the shower.

“Oh my god, babe, you are not cleaning my shower in the middle of the night!”

It wasn’t the first time Alexander called him that—he’d done it in the few times they’d met with the reporter’s friends—but it was the first time it was _for real_ , and it made Aaron smile. He kept scrubbing, though.

“ _Aaron_!”

“It’ll only take a minute.”

Alexander groaned, rubbed his face with a hand, and decided to go back to bed. He had done his best to keep the cleaning freak away from his apartment, but now it was too late, and honestly, he didn’t mind that much. He’d even tried to keep the place tidier if it made Aaron happy, but he knew the guy actually liked cleaning, or at least it helped him with the stress, so if he could get both, his not-fake-boyfriend happy and his apartment clean at the same time, then who was he to complain? He was a practical guy. He knew he could be overwhelming, but so could Aaron, and really, they had proved they could handle each other.

And perhaps he would call Angelica later tomorrow to thank her, because she really had been right, all along.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it!


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